Middle Aged Thoughts from Scotland

Transition

Back home and I am feeling rather worn out after the weekend’s activities. Having a holiday is great, and I really feel, at least for a short time, that I leave my depression behind. Getting back though I find not only do I need time and space to recover from my exertions but the everyday demands or necessities of life return and I think I am feeling bad for not doing things.

Monday is a cycling day normally, but because of the weekend was taken up with the cycling adventure, nobody wants to go out again and we all have other things we would like to do. This morning I spend as long in bed and I felt was needed but once up, I felt I could have just as well stayed in bed all day. My body aches but in particular my arm muscles, thighs and calves are sore, not in a grimacing bad way but in a need a few days to recover way. I would have happily gone to sleep on the sofa but I bargained with myself that I can do that if I take the dog for a walk first. Then I thought that taking the laptop and doing some typing would be a good idea too. And that’s where I find myself; in the park, sitting sideways on a bench to shield the sun from my screen and typing. I still would prefer to go to sleep though.

There is a lovely blue sky above me, some fluffy white clouds are dotted here and there, and there are lines of cirrus clouds high above. It is quite windy, but it is a warm wind that keeps the heat of the sun off me. The sun lights up the football pitch in front of me with a fresh, at places a patchy yellow-green that suggests plenty of rain lately, though not today. The trees to my left indicate the strength of the wind in a way difficult to capture in a photo. Tall poplar trees bend in the wind and the silvery underside of the leaves flutters in the breeze. The oak is more bouncy in its response to the pressure and the conifers seem to show a changing wave pattern shaking their branches, whilst the trunks move little. My laptop tilts like a see-saw in the wind a bit too balanced as it is on one knee and kept from falling by the placement of my hands as I type.

I feel depressed. Not in a major way, but just enough to know that I am responding back with the demands of home. Perhaps if I could reframe “demands” I would feel better, perhaps I am just tired, too tired to do some things before my wife comes home from work. Take it easy on yourself pops into my head, but when do I give myself permission to take it easy? What constitutes an acceptable situation to left myself off the hook? It sounds like I am judging myself harshly, do I need to judge myself at all?

A pack of motorcycles have just past by on the dual carriageway that is hidden from view by a solid line of trees. It was “Thunder in the Glen” this last weekend where 2,500 motorcyclists met up and celebrated a shared interest, can you imagine being on a push pedal bike in the middle of that? It must have been a wonderful sight to see, though I imagine rather noisy. When I focus on it, the dual carriageway is such a busy road, people rushing up and down, most I guess absorbed in getting to the next task, ticking items off the list. I find the wind noise softer and more comforting myself. I think it is time to go home and take a snooze.